CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO!
ECHOES OF MINE M83
HEARTBEAT RAGING, I did as the doctor asked. She had first instructed me to pee in a cup, and shortly after she confirmed what I already knew: I was pregnant.
The doctor was plump and blonde and had kind eyes; still, she was only making me more nervous with her questions.
Is this your first baby?
Are you excited?
What do you want? A boy or a girl?
It seemed odd that she would ask me these things, but I answered as calmly as possible. Yes, this was my first baby. I lied about the excitement part—I said kind of, but I was actually terrified. And the gender did not matter: I wanted both.
The doctor brought us into a small, almost cramped, dark room. Beside the plush table I settled upon, thin paper crinkling beneath me, was a computer screen atop a cart. She pulled out a drawer in the cart containing a keyboard and typed away. There was one chair beside the table that Luke claimed, so Benny had to pull up the other chair from the corner of the room. They watched the computer screen, looking slightly uneasy, slightly anticipative. A television rested against the wall just ahead of me, so I could easily watch as the doctor punched in my name and birthday.
Finally, after what felt like ages but seconds at the same time, the doctor turned to face me. She flashed a soft smile and said, "Could you lift your shirt for me?"
My hands and arms shook when I did so, tugging my t-shirt as high as it could go without revealing my bra. The boys seemed to notice, because they reached for me at the same time. Luke's hand curled around my elbow when I put my arm back down, and Benny took my hand in his; both of their grips were firm and comforting.
The doctor squirted cold jelly onto my skin, and then placed some sort of wand on it. With it, she smeared the jelly over my stomach, her eyes on the screen. On the television, I could see weird dark shades moving around, and then—
A noise cut through the quiet, a quick and steady beat. Both boys' hands tightened on me, but not even they could ease the choked feeling in my throat, the burning behind my eyes.
"There's your baby," the doctor practically squealed. "Here's the head; here's the little arms; the little hands..."
In the effort to hold back tears, all I could manage was a nod along. It was so overwhelming, hearing another human's heartbeat inside of me—even if the body parts, to me, were relatively unidentifiable.
While the doctor pointed out the baby's lungs, I glanced to my left. Luke, still holding onto my arm, was staring at the screen in wonder and, admittedly, looked slightly as though he might be sick. Benny, however, was watching the screen with ill-veiled awe, stars swimming in his eyes. He caught me looking at him, and a grin spread across his face—and it was the purest, most innocent look in the world.
Several emotions overwhelmed me at once, and I felt my own mouth rising into an uncontrollable smile, at the same time the first tear of joy fell.
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THE ride back home was relatively quiet. Luke drove, both hands tight on the wheel; Benny sat in the back with me, arm wrapped around my shoulders, and we both studied the photos of our baby. It was so surreal.
Had it really been only two years since Benny and I had met? How could that even be possible? Two years, in reality, was an incredibly short amount of time, yet so much had changed. I'd started out as a stubborn girl who loved baseball too much to walk away from what looked like paradise—a bunch of kids who were good at baseball, playing as one team. Now, the star of that team, only two years later, was the father of my child. Now, only two years later, I knew Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez better than I knew myself. That day, two years ago, I had met the absolute love of my life.
Time was so...meaningless.
As we rode home, I repeated the facts in my mind, trying to make perfect sense of it. Trying to truly grasp it. Two years ago— Hell, two months ago, I'd never dreamed of being where I was today. Never dreamed of carrying a child at sixteen. It was horrifying. And yet...
A constant little smile played on Benny's lips, and he was so consumed with the ultrasound photos that he did not notice me staring at him. Part of me paid the fear no mind, because I knew I had a good man to stand beside me through it all. Two, actually; I paid Luke a glance as well, and while his muscles were visibly tense, I knew that he would never leave my side.
At least the father of my child, the only man who had ever known me, was such a beautiful soul. Most teenage mothers were not so lucky, I knew.
A surprisingly sizable portion of my fear ebbed away. Affection drove me to snuggle my head onto Benny's shoulder.
In what seemed to be no time at all, we arrived at my house. Benny stuffed the photos in his back pocket as we approached the door. Luke glanced back at me, that wide-eyed and slightly fearful look still on his face.
"Are you going to tell them?" Luke asked, and I knew he meant our parents.
It sounded stupid, but...I kind of wanted to. I knew there was a chance that it would cause a fight, but they wouldn't dare to throw me out. Hurtful words might be carried out, but, in the end, they would still love me the same. And they might even support me. I hoped.
After a lengthy moment of consideration, heart pounding, I said, "I think so."
Luke blanched; if he had looked disturbed before, there was no word to describe the look on his face now. "Really? I thought you wanted to keep it from them for as long as you could. I mean, it doesn't even show yet—"
All of a sudden, the door swung open, pulling gasps from all of our mouths. There stood mine and Luke's mother, dark hair streaked with blonde pulled into a messy bun. The edges of her lips tilted downward, ever so slightly.
"What doesn't show yet?" she wondered, though her tone was edged with motherly demand.
"Oh, God," Luke mumbled.
Mom shifted her weight onto one foot, rested a hand on her hip, a frown growing, and asked, "What do you need to tell me?" Her expectant gaze landed and locked on me.
Whatever consideration had left me thinking I wanted to admit my pregnancy to my parents vanished. Mom's expression wasn't precisely intimidating, but it tore at me anyway. I turned to Benny, hoping my face wasn't completely red.
"You might want to, like...go."
Benny shook his head. "No. This is my responsibility too."
"What?" Mom demanded.
Luke looked back to me, as if searching for confirmation. Despite the obvious fact that he was disturbed with the whole situation—dealing with his little sister's pregnancy—it was just as obvious, if not more, that he was willing to back me up. It gave me the small burst of confidence that I needed.
Once I was able to clear my airway and actually breathe, I said, "Let's go sit down."
There was one simple fact about my family: We were not the type portrayed on television. At all. And we never told someone to sit down to receive jarring news. In truth, I needed her to sit down in case she fainted or tried to chase me down and whoop my ass—because if I sat closer to the door, I might have a chance at escaping.
Needless to say, Mom's frown deepened, but she did turn back into the house. She plopped onto the couch, and Luke, possibly having guessed the possible outcomes as well, went to sit beside her and grab her hand. I hoped he planned on restraining her, if needed, even though he would just get whooped too—it didn't matter to our mother that he was nineteen and didn't even live in her house anymore.
The only place I could sit was the loveseat, and although it was close to Mom, I sat there. I had no idea why I was going through with this, knowing the result couldn't be a good one. Once seated, I found myself wishing I'd stood by the door. But Benny followed me, and while he kept a short space between us, it gave me a boost.
For several moments, there was silence. The air was mixed with expectancy and anxiety. The latter tugged cruelly at my throat, but when Benny took my hand, I was relieved of that choking sensation.
Finally, knowing that it needed to be done sooner or later, I cleared my throat. "Mom...I have always looked at you as a friend, as well as a mother. I know you trust me and wouldn't judge me for, you know, being a teenager. You told me that, remember? You do remember that."
Mom's eyes flew wide and then seemed to droop. Her gaze flickered to Benny, and she seemed to find a part of the answer in the way he hung his head and avoided looking at her.
"Okay," Mom said, slowly; her tone was slightly injured. "I understand."
"I—"
"Don't say it out loud," she said, holding out a palm to me. Her eyes were closed; seeing the pain in her expression told me all I needed to know. She thought this was only about me having lost my virginity, her first daughter finally losing her innocence, and it must have hurt her more deeply than she would have thought.
We had once or twice had a conversation concerning my teenage life. My mother had always been a friend to me. She had done all there was to do, had been a wild child herself. I had come clean to her about smoking weed and all of the things I had ever done. While she did not particularly favor it, she did not punish me or judge me for it. In fact, she thought that it was almost necessary to experience a bit of the typical teenage lifestyle (without ruining your life in the process) to learn certain lessons and have the ability to better understand life. Having sex was one of those things.
She had told me, to my surprise, that she would not stop me. Would not try to hold me back from going out and partying and maybe even having sex. She had become my confidant so easily—a best friend who would love me forever and unconditionally. Who could give me the greatest advice and guide me through this life of complication and pain, and would still push me to live it.
But there were no mistakes. Having sex with Benny was not a mistake, and neither was getting pregnant. It wasn't planned, of course, but a child, to me, could never be a mistake.
"It isn't just that, Mom," I said, softly. Regret touched every note of my voice: Regret in the knowledge of how much pain this would put my mother in. "Benny."
Benny looked up and met my gaze; his eyes, almond brown touched with specks of glowing emerald, were shy and unsure. Still, our bond allowed us to sort of communicate with only our eyes, and, after a moment of hesitance, he pulled the ultrasound photos out of his back pocket.
Mom tracked our every move, and when she caught a glimpse of the black and white photo, she gasped and covered her face with both of her hands. Luke's arm circled around her shoulder, and she put her head on his shoulder.
She took a few moments, and finally groaned, "Oh, no. Oh, God."
"I'm sorry, Momma," I murmured, taking the photos and reaching to drop them into her lap. Part of me wondered if she would sweep them to the floor, but she only kept her face covered.
Finally, she started to cry.
Benny and I shared a look; we had no idea what to do. Neither of us had ever needed to confess to a parent that we were a parent. Eventually, I just slid to the floor in front of Mom and hugged her around the legs. To my surprise and pleasure, she released one of her hands to rub my back, as if I were the one in need of consolation. I supposed that was true.
"Oh, no," Mom whispered. "Oh, my baby."
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, God," Mom groaned, not even seeming to hear me. "You're me made over—except not as bad."
It was true; Mom had gotten pregnant with Luke at sixteen and had given birth to him at seventeen, like I would.
"Maybe that's a good thing," I said, voice weak. "Look at you—you're a great mother."
She laughed; I couldn't determine whether it was bitter or sad or both. For a while, nobody said anything. Then Luke spoke, surprising all of us:
"Look at it this way, Momma. It's the most obvious thing in the world, how much Benny truly loves her. He's a really good guy. And he's going to being a father and take care of Kayla and the baby." Of course, being the big brother he was, Luke had to inject a bit of intimidation into the last sentence.
Luke and I watched as Mom uncovered her face, wiped beneath her eyes and stained her jeans with tears...and then extended her hand out to Benny, who sat at the edge of the loveseat, looking extremely uncomfortable. Still, he got to the floor beside me to take her hand. She gave it a squeeze.
"I know you'll take care of her," Mom said, and her voice was incredibly, surprisingly soft. "I know. I'm not angry at either of you, I'm just...heartbroken that my babies are growing up. Luke's getting married, and now you're making me a grandmother."
Despite myself, I smiled. "Hey, you'd be one hot grandma."
Mom managed a smile, too. "I would, wouldn't I?"
"Does this mean you're supporting her?" Luke wondered, dark hair nearly falling into his wide eyes. "Because if so...that was really easy. I mean, you didn't even cry that long."
She wiped her eyes again. "Oh, don't worry. There's plenty more where that came from. I'm just afraid of how Terry's going to react."
My eyes flew wide. "Wait—"
"When Luke said them outside," Mom broke in, pointing an accusing finger at me, "that meant the both of us."
Now it was my turn to groan, "Oh, God."
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THIS IS SO FUCKING HORRIBLE, OH MY GOSH. for as long as i make you guys wait for an update, i sure do provide shitty content. i'm so sorry!
i'm also sorry that it took me so long to get this finished (literally wrote more than half of the chapter today). i've been super sick (and obsessed with gta 5 online). i need to get my shit together completely - content, deadlines, etc. it's all so very horrible.
stay gold
x kayla
04.05.18